Moving forward.
Partly a recap of what's been going on, and setting up for a plot-in-progress.
Lighting up a cigarette - his last one of the day before going to bed - Michael just sighed before taking a slow drag. The full moon shining above him was helping him get a glimpse of the ocean ahead of him, and as he stood there leaning against the balcony railing of his room and listened to the waves he started to fully realize just how calm he was feeling at the moment. His days at the Cayman Islands had been the perfect way of getting his head straight again and getting a better perspective about everything that was going on in his life. At this particular moment, as he smoked in his balcony in the dark with what was to him a perfect view of the vast ocean under the night sky, he finally felt a new sense of purpose that he hadn't been able to find in months.
Back when he had done the first job for Alena and Marc, her boss, something hadn't settled right with him. He knew Alena far better than she figured he did, and he knew that night that she was hiding something from him. What that was he didn't know, but it was something, which was enough for him to distrust her.
And then, Stephen had shown up. After Eddie had been killed back in March when Michael had helped Stephen kill a man who he had once worked for, Michael didn't think he'd ever see Stephen again but he had shown up out of nowhere. One thing had led to another and Michael had ended up agreeing to working with him again; but this time his job description was different. He'd continue working for Alena and Marc, and he'd keep pretending as if working for them is what he wants to keep doing, while he informs Stephen of every bit of information he can get his hands on.
Alena had been right in what she had told him once - he was what was considered a freelancer, but what she probably never figured was that, in the end, he had simply gone to work for the one that benefited him the most. His vacation to the Cayman Islands hadn't been planned how he had claimed over and over again - they had been thought of at the last minute by an associate that Stephen had. After his work with Alena and Marc was done Michael would start working in an underground 'firm' that had close ties to law enforcement - thanks to Stephen, who had pulled some sort of miracle to get him in there - and he needed to get back into shape for whatever it was that he'd be facing; his 'vacation' had served him as a way of getting away from Alena long enough to start training.
He was aware of the fact that there'd be some sort of payback for betraying a person as powerful as Marc Walsh, but at the same time Michael wasn't planning on getting caught any time soon, if at all. Alena, he had come to find out, had Michael followed to Grand Cayman for the first few days; these days had served him as his actual days of vacation. He had done nothing but try out snorkeling, eat well, and act like a tourist in a place he had never visited before. Surveillance didn't last forever, and once Alena was sure that Michael was just vacationing Michael was free. Nonetheless, to keep pretending, his hotel room had stayed under his name, and from time to time he'd still visit around Grand Cayman as if he's just taking some days off.
On the other days, though, when Michael Beck isn't being a tourist, Alexander Johnson meets up with Damian, Stephen's associate who was in charge of helping him train, and they'd sail away towards another island away from the Caymans so that training can take place. In order to keep his name clear, in case that Alena or Marc get a whiff about an informant that's helping the authorities, Michael had put together his middle name and his birth father's last name - which were also two very popular names as well. It wasn't a brilliant undercover name, and if Alena did enough research she could probably find what his middle name was, but Michael was counting on not being caught. And, if he were to get caught, there were no aliases enough in the world that could really hide him anyway.
None of that mattered to him, though. Almost two weeks had passed, and Michael's mind felt clearer than ever. He hadn't gotten enough days to really train much, but the ones that he had gotten he had pushed himself as much as he could. On Friday night he would leave Grand Cayman and would go back to New York, but until then he was planning on training from sunrise to sunset nonstop. For the first time in months - in years, actually - he finally felt as if his life was going somewhere and he was doing something that's right rather than burying himself deeper into the hole he had once thrown himself into; there was no way in hell that he wouldn't push himself to be better. He needed to be faster, he needed to be stronger, he needed to become a perfect shooter... That old part of himself, the perfectionist and strong side that had felt as if it had been slipping away after his brother's death and after his heroin addiction, was coming back and he couldn't be more glad about that.
In some odd way, doing what he was doing, was giving him a purpose again to become better. To become someone else, and someone who he was no longer ashamed of. Sure, he was 'hiding' under the name of Alexander Johnson, but that was just out of necessity. There was still a long way to go, and deep down he knew that things weren't going to be as easy as he figured they'd be, but he felt ready to face them.
He was finally ready.
Lighting up a cigarette - his last one of the day before going to bed - Michael just sighed before taking a slow drag. The full moon shining above him was helping him get a glimpse of the ocean ahead of him, and as he stood there leaning against the balcony railing of his room and listened to the waves he started to fully realize just how calm he was feeling at the moment. His days at the Cayman Islands had been the perfect way of getting his head straight again and getting a better perspective about everything that was going on in his life. At this particular moment, as he smoked in his balcony in the dark with what was to him a perfect view of the vast ocean under the night sky, he finally felt a new sense of purpose that he hadn't been able to find in months.
Back when he had done the first job for Alena and Marc, her boss, something hadn't settled right with him. He knew Alena far better than she figured he did, and he knew that night that she was hiding something from him. What that was he didn't know, but it was something, which was enough for him to distrust her.
And then, Stephen had shown up. After Eddie had been killed back in March when Michael had helped Stephen kill a man who he had once worked for, Michael didn't think he'd ever see Stephen again but he had shown up out of nowhere. One thing had led to another and Michael had ended up agreeing to working with him again; but this time his job description was different. He'd continue working for Alena and Marc, and he'd keep pretending as if working for them is what he wants to keep doing, while he informs Stephen of every bit of information he can get his hands on.
Alena had been right in what she had told him once - he was what was considered a freelancer, but what she probably never figured was that, in the end, he had simply gone to work for the one that benefited him the most. His vacation to the Cayman Islands hadn't been planned how he had claimed over and over again - they had been thought of at the last minute by an associate that Stephen had. After his work with Alena and Marc was done Michael would start working in an underground 'firm' that had close ties to law enforcement - thanks to Stephen, who had pulled some sort of miracle to get him in there - and he needed to get back into shape for whatever it was that he'd be facing; his 'vacation' had served him as a way of getting away from Alena long enough to start training.
He was aware of the fact that there'd be some sort of payback for betraying a person as powerful as Marc Walsh, but at the same time Michael wasn't planning on getting caught any time soon, if at all. Alena, he had come to find out, had Michael followed to Grand Cayman for the first few days; these days had served him as his actual days of vacation. He had done nothing but try out snorkeling, eat well, and act like a tourist in a place he had never visited before. Surveillance didn't last forever, and once Alena was sure that Michael was just vacationing Michael was free. Nonetheless, to keep pretending, his hotel room had stayed under his name, and from time to time he'd still visit around Grand Cayman as if he's just taking some days off.
On the other days, though, when Michael Beck isn't being a tourist, Alexander Johnson meets up with Damian, Stephen's associate who was in charge of helping him train, and they'd sail away towards another island away from the Caymans so that training can take place. In order to keep his name clear, in case that Alena or Marc get a whiff about an informant that's helping the authorities, Michael had put together his middle name and his birth father's last name - which were also two very popular names as well. It wasn't a brilliant undercover name, and if Alena did enough research she could probably find what his middle name was, but Michael was counting on not being caught. And, if he were to get caught, there were no aliases enough in the world that could really hide him anyway.
None of that mattered to him, though. Almost two weeks had passed, and Michael's mind felt clearer than ever. He hadn't gotten enough days to really train much, but the ones that he had gotten he had pushed himself as much as he could. On Friday night he would leave Grand Cayman and would go back to New York, but until then he was planning on training from sunrise to sunset nonstop. For the first time in months - in years, actually - he finally felt as if his life was going somewhere and he was doing something that's right rather than burying himself deeper into the hole he had once thrown himself into; there was no way in hell that he wouldn't push himself to be better. He needed to be faster, he needed to be stronger, he needed to become a perfect shooter... That old part of himself, the perfectionist and strong side that had felt as if it had been slipping away after his brother's death and after his heroin addiction, was coming back and he couldn't be more glad about that.
In some odd way, doing what he was doing, was giving him a purpose again to become better. To become someone else, and someone who he was no longer ashamed of. Sure, he was 'hiding' under the name of Alexander Johnson, but that was just out of necessity. There was still a long way to go, and deep down he knew that things weren't going to be as easy as he figured they'd be, but he felt ready to face them.
He was finally ready.